Performance
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: AU Modern Day. Rapunzel sneaks out of her mother's house and heads to this murky looking bar. It's called the Snuggly Duckling, and it has talent scouts and karaoke. She sings, Pascal cheering her on, and she gets noticed by a certain dark-haired, smooth talking man who doesn't let on on how much he likes her singing and tells her of a possible gig.
1. A Murky, Dark Bar

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled or When She Loved Me. Here's a little something, it's AU, obviously. Let me know if I should continue it or not. Thank you for reading! God bless you!**

Rapunzel stood outside of the bar, and took a deep breath. She just needed to stay calm, was all. She could do this, right? This is what she wanted to do . . . for forever. This was what she snuck out of the house, out from under her mother's nose, to do. On her shoulder, coming out from beneath her long blonde hair, which Rapunzel had tied back into a braid with a hair thing, came her little pet chameleon. Pascal, green, small, nimble and fast, was her outside eyes and ears. He had found this place.

It was a far cry from her home in Beverly Hills, where everything was clean and tidy and expensive. The house where she lived with her mother, Mother Gothel, a dame from Germany, had a tower, a long building in the back of the house. Her room was in there, and that was where she stayed. She was never allowed outside of the house. That was why she had snuck out while her mother went to her day job.

This here was a mess. It was dark, creepy, murky, with a half illuminated sign announcing the name of it: The Snuggly Duckling. A strange name for a bar, but Rapunzel didn't complain. This was her chance, and if it was a murky bar where talent scouts hung out, looking for the next talented, quirky thing, then that was where she was headed.

She looked to Pascal, who gave her a nod, and said, "Well, okayyy," and she stepped forward and walked in.

She was met with the stale scent of beer. There was a bar, a shelf of cloudy bottles behind the barkeeper, who worn a helmet. Rapunzel looked tentatively around, and almost gave a shriek, holding her black purse in front of her. There was customers, and they were all men, and drinking, and _dirty_. Everyone looked like they worked the docks in San Fransisco.

Pascal crawled back on her shoulder, and she felt someone behind her touch her back. She shrieked and bounced away, almost scowling as she held up her purse to hit whoever touched her.

"Whoa! Hey, hold it, Blondie," said the man. He gave her a sly smile, and Rapunzel wrinkled her nose. He was wearing a blue shirt over a white one, a leather jacket, and long, torn jeans with heavy sneakers. He offered his hand and said, "Flynn Rider. What's your name?"

"Rapunzel, and that's all you'll get," she said quickly, her orange flower earrings jingling in her ears.

"Okay, fine. Be that way," he said, and he dismissively turned and headed to the bar.

Rapunzel looked away from him, and Pascal crackled with growls by her ear. Rapunzel put her purse down and laughed, saying, "Oh, it's okay, Pascal." She gulped and said, "We just need to be careful around here."

"Hey, you," she heard, and she turned to see a rather fat, bald man, dressed in biker clothes coming toward her. She visibly gulped when she saw that he was wearing a hook at the end of one of his hands.

"Yes?" she said.

"Hey, don't let him bother you," the man said, pointing to Flynn Rider, who was joking about blood and pointing at some guy's mustache. The hook handed man leaned toward her and said, a hand at his mouth, "Nobody 'round here really likes him. Ignore him, and call me if you have any trouble. I'm security around here."

"Oh. Thank you," Rapunzel said, sounding relieved, making the man smile.

"Name's Hook. Poetic, huh?" he said, holding up his hand.

"I'm awfully sorry about that," Rapunzel said.

"Ah, don't worry about it."

"I'm Rapunzel," Rapunzel said.

"Rapunzel. Nice to meet you. Now, tell me, what kind of pretty girl like you is doing in this part of town in this joint?"

Rapunzel let out a breath, folding her arms over her shirt, which was a white shirt with purple birds on it, and said, "Well, I actually came here to sing. I've heard that talent scouts like to frequent this place."

Hook frowned. "You think that you're talented enough to get a deal, or at least a gig?"

Rapunzel shrugged, saying sheepishly with a weak smile, "I don't really know. That's why I want to see what other people think."

"Weeeelllll," Hook said, turning and leading her through the crowd of men, who all noticed her as they drank from their pints, leading her to the karaoke stage. It was a brown stage, a piano in the back of it, a few lights and a screen in front of it. Hook turned to Rapunzel, who was fairly bursting with excitement, and said, "What song do you want?"

"'When She Loved Me,'" Rapunzel said quickly. She bent and hid her purse in the side of the stage so that no one would see it and steal it, and looked up to Hook, saying, "You know the one?"

"Oh, yeah," Hook said. He smiled and winked as he turned to get the music, pointing her to the microphone as he did so.

Rapunzel turned to the microphone, and gently grasped it, lifting it out of its stand, its weight heavy in her hands. She smiled at Pascal, who crawled down her shirt and jeans and purple shoes, and sat by one of the stage lights, give her thumbs-up and looking overall very confident in her. She smiled, and looked out over the crowd. She knew that the both of them had been looking forward to this for a long time, and now here was her chance.

She took a deep breath, and the song started playing. She looked up, and caught sight of the lyrics, and she heard Hook call out, "And now, the Snuggly Duckling welcomes Rapunzel, who will be singing 'When She Loved Me!'"

There was only slight applause, and practically no one looked at her now as the alcohol called them away from her little girl persona and slow song choice. Rapunzel just sucked in a breath, and sang into the microphone:

_When somebody loved me_

_Everything was beautiful_

_Every hour we spent together lives within my heart_

The bar crowd slowly turned to Rapunzel, her angelic voice carrying the sad song over the sounds of bar jokes and laughter. Her voice was the only thing in the bar, and everyone stopped speaking, and watched her in quiet amazement.

_And when she was sad,_

_I was there to dry her tears_

_And when she was happy_

_So was I_

_When she loved me_

Rapunzel took a quick breath here, and looked down to Pascal, who gave her a giant thumbs-up, smiling broadly, and this made her smile, and sing with more energy.

_Through the summer and the fall_

_We had each other, that was all_

_Just she and I together_

_Like it was meant to be_

All of the patrons were now very sad looking, and even a few were wiping at a few manly tears. Rapunzel smiled and continued, barely noticing that Mr. Flynn Rider had even turned in his seat, and was quietly watching her, observing her. She had a great stage presence, and her voice wasn't too bad. Not at all.

_And when she was lonely_

_I was there to comfort her_

_And I knew that she loved me_

_So the years went by  
_

_I stayed the same  
_

_But she began to drift away  
_

_I was left alone  
_

_Still I waited for the day  
_

_When she'd say I will always love you_

_Lonely and forgotten_

_I'd never thought she'd look my way  
_

_And she smiled at me and held me just like she used to do  
_

_Like she loved me  
_

_When she loved me_

_When somebody loved me_

_Everything was beautiful  
_

_Every hour we spent together lives within my heart_

Her head was tilted back, she was singing into the microphone, and it felt like her lungs were going to burst out. She withheld enough so that she wasn't breathing it out, which was hard, considering she was barely breathing, only concentrating on her song, her eyes closed, her braid swishing as she moved her head about.

Four more words. She knew she'd do well.

_When she loved me_

She held the last note for a couple of seconds, and then her head drew back, and she opened her eyes to see a bar full of weeping men. She straightened as they all started clapping, clamoring for more, shouting, "Encore, encore!" Even Flynn Rider was clapping slowly at the bar. His face was almost blank, his eyes just watching her, her every move.

Rapunzel put a hand to her mouth, hiding her smile, as Hook came up on stage, almost stepping on Pascal, who barely noticed; he was clapping too hard. Hook smiled and said, "Well, what do you think? Encore! Encore!" He said in a quieter voice, "I can play the piano for ya if you want me to."

Rapunzel let out a breath and said for the entire bar, "I-I was only prepared to do that one song."

"Awwww," they all said, but she waved and they took that as a sign to turn back to their beers. Rapunzel, suddenly remembering, gulped and handed the microphone to Hook, saying, "Thank you soooo much." She patted his hand and smiled, and she walked off the stage, silently beckoning Pascal to her as she grabbed her purse. He scampered to her and crawled up her back onto her shoulder as she hurried to the front door.

"Hey, Blondie," she heard, and she turned to see Flynn Rider getting up from his spot at the bar.

"Don't-DON'T make me call management over here," she said quickly. She determinedly tightened her grasp on her purse and said, "DON'T make me mad."

"Hey, okay, just calm down. You were great up there," Flynn Rider said.

Rapunzel said, confused, "What?"

"Seriously, that was . . . um, great. What's your name again?"

"Rapunzel," she said quickly, raising an eyebrow.

"Gesundheit," Flynn said.

"It's TRUE," Rapunzel said, and she turned and opened the door. Pascal blew Flynn a raspberry as he quickly reached out and grabbed the door.

"Wait," he said.

"What?" Rapunzel said quickly. "I've got to get home." She didn't feel the need to tell this stranger that her mother was going to be home any minute and she felt an urge to rush, quickly, before her disappearance was noticed.

"Look," he said, and he reached into his leather jacket and smashed a piece of paper into her hand. "Here's a poster for an audition. There's a scout looking for new talent, and they might like what you have. It's got an address on it and everything."

Rapunzel looked at him strangely, wondering he was doing this, and he nodded and walked back to the bar. Rapunzel looked at her hand, where the ghosts of the gentle pressure of his hand was, and stuck the paper in her purse before hurrying out into the night, daring not to waste any time examining it while there was the probability of her disappearance being found out.

**So . . . tell me what you think. Thanks for reading! God bless you!**


	2. Audition

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled or the Healing Incantation song. Well, all right, some of youse like this story, so I'll roll with it. Hopefully I'll get around to updating it a lot more; on another note, I'm reading the Host, AND IT'S SO PERFECT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND LIKE I REALLY, REALLY DON'T LIKE TWILIGHT BUT THE HOST IS SO PERRFFFFF. Thanks for reading! God bless you!**

Pascal crawled off of Rapunzel's shoulder as she quickly ran through the first floor's halls of their home to where the spiraling staircase leading up to her bedroom was. She walked rapidly through the kitchen, kicking off her shoes and picking them up to hide under her bed. She nearly tripped over the box of paint supplies she had lying around, and tossed them into a crook in the stairs, which was just off of the kitchen.

Pascal turned into the color of the intricately painted kitchen tile while Rapunzel quickly put knitted oven mitts on and fished a deliciously brown chicken pot pie out of the oven. She breathed in the scent of it deeply and sighed happily as she placed it on top of the stove to cool.

"Okay, THAT didn't burn," Rapunzel said, sliding her oven mitts off and heading to the sink to wash her hands. She splashed water on her hands and added soap to the mix, but her eyes weren't on her job. She had turned her head to see her purse, which was sitting limply against one of the vases holding orange lilies by the kitchen table. That poster, that piece of paper that strange Flynn Rider had pressed into her hand, it was still in there, and she wanted to look at it and read it and study it and memorize it, her heart racing at what he had said, but she needed privacy, and Mother would be home in just a bit-

"Rapunzel! Unlock the door, sweetheart!"

Rapunzel instantly started and hastily dried her hands on a kitchen towel, calling complacently, "Coming, Mother!"

"Oh, do hurry, dear," Mother Gothel said. Even though the woman had a key, Rapunzel was always instructed to unlock all six locks that lined the door.

Rapunzel nodded, though her mother couldn't see her do so, and hurried and her quick fingers went to unlock all the combinations that her mother had come up with. She breathlessly opened the door, revealing a woman. In her forties, with mild flecks of silver hair streaking her jet black curls, Gothel smiled and said, stepping in, her dark red business suit bending and folding as she took off her dark jacket and quickly handed it to Rapunzel, "Oh, thank you dear. You really should, though, come along faster, before Mother gets mauled by the neighbors' ferocious dogs!"

Rapunzel had observed those same dogs from her bedroom window at night, when she was drawing, and she found them not mean but lonely, always barking at people, and she often wished that she could go down there and pet them and make them happy, but, as she gathered the jacket in her arms and set it on the hook in the wall, who was she to question Mother?

"Sorry about that, Mother," Rapunzel said as she followed her into their kitchen. Mother was looking around the kitchen, which was spotless, and looked to Rapunzel, who had her hands clasped behind her back and a bright smile on her face, and smiled and walked up to her and encased her daughter in her arms.

"Oh, it's PERFECTLY all right, my dear," Gothel said, her hand gently stroking Rapunzel's long and golden braid. Rapunzel smiled against her shoulder, but her smile faded slowly as her mother said, "Though, you REALLY shouldn't mumble, especially when you're apologizing, Rapunzel." She leaned back, her slightly wrinkled hands on Rapunzel's thin shoulders, and said, "It makes it sound SO insincere."

Rapunzel took in a breath. "Of course, Mother."

"THAT's my girl," Gothel said, and she patted the top of Rapunzel's head, and said, sounding almost concerned, "why is your hair put up?"

Rapunzel remembered her braid and said, "Oh, I just pinned it up to get it out of the way while I baked." And that was very true. Sometimes Mother Gothel got a seventy foot long hair in her food when Rapunzel didn't pin her hair back, and the teenager would always get a good scolding about it.

Mother nodded warily after a moment, and turned back to the kitchen, saying almost brightly, "Well, what did you make for supper, sweetheart?"

"Chicken pot pie, Mother," Rapunzel said eagerly.

"Sounds delicious, dear," Gothel said, eying the pie, "BUT," she turned so that her hands were behind her, resting against the counter, and said, "before we eat, could you sing for me, dear?"

"Sing? For you? Of course, Mother!" Rapunzel said, pausing and smiling brightly from where she was carrying their usual dishes to their bill- and paperwork-covered kitchen table. She immediately ran and got one of the kitchen table chairs and set it in the middle of the kitchen. She untied her braid and ran around the kitchen to loosen it up as Gothel casually took her seat.

Rapunzel grabbed her plastic hairbrush from the living room sofa chair and brought it to Mother Gothel and sat down, drawing her knees to herself, her little toes wiggling, on the tiled floor, and sang, closing her eyes:

_Flower, gleam and glow_

_Let your power shine  
_

_Make the clock reverse  
_

_Bring back what once was mine  
_

_Heal what has been hurt  
_

_Change the fate's design_

_Save what has been lost  
_

_Bring back what once was mine  
_

_What once was mine  
_

She finished with taking a deep breath, and Gothel nodded approvingly as she stood up and took her cellphone out of her purse, the cell phone that Rapunzel was told never to touch.

"Thank you, dear, now you MUST really finish supper," Gothel said cheerfully, and she turned to her cellphone and started talking with someone, making Rapunzel watch her with a bit of wonder before turning to finish supper. Mother was allowed to have contact with the cruel, curious world, but she wasn't. And . . . Mother lied. She said everyone was out to get her, but those tough looking thugs _applauded _her. It was all very strange to Rapunzel as she got out water from the fridge, and looked to Pascal, who looked from her to her purse. Her eyes traveled to the black purse as well. She wanted to see what it said, too.

* * *

"Okay, this is it, Pascal!" Rapunzel said, sitting cross-legged on her bed. She was wearing her purple pajamas, tank and shorts, and Pascal was sitting, looking excited, on top of her pillow, his eyes eager to see what the paper said.

Gothel was downstairs, doing who knew what, and Rapunzel had propped the knob of her room up with a chair. A gentle breeze came in through the open window and a lamp on her desk next to her knitting was on, casting light over the room.

Pascal chirped excitedly, and Rapunzel reached into her purse and pulled out the wrinkled paper. She quickly turned it each and which way to make it smooth, and rubbing a hand against it, bit her lip slightly and held it out for her to read.

**_The Cave Group_**

**Auditions for a singing deal at Corona Stadium, opening act to The Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea.  
**

**Ever thought of performing live in front of thousands of people? You now have the chance! Head to The Cave studio for auditions! No experience playing an instrument? No problem! Must be 18 years or older to participate. Date of auditions is April 2nd and is through 8 AM to 5 PM.  
**

**Cave Group  
**

**1124 Dream Street  
**

**Corona, CA  
**

**17183  
**

Rapunzel looked to Pascal, whom she had read it quietly but excitedly aloud to. He shrugged, almost looking impressed, and she said, holding up the poster, "Pascal, this could be IT."

And as she looked around her room excitedly, reliving the thoughts and feelings and exhilaration she had felt that afternoon, her eyes rested on her guitar. She rushed to it, its front covered in doodles of paint, and looked to Pascal, who looked just as excited as she did.

She smiled, and strummed a few strings. This could be the BIG deal. An opening gig before The Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea? She had never heard of either of them, but she knew that they had to be big.

Maybe this Flynn Rider guy, with his poster, wasn't so bad. She wasn't trusting HIM, of course. It was the poster that said she had a chance, and she felt the thrill of the fact that _she was getting out of here_.

* * *

"Rapunzel, I'm heading out now," Mother Gothel said, applying more red lipstick to her lips that April 2nd morning, which was just a week or so later. She puckered her lips and stretched her face in front of a mirror and sighing, fluffed up her hair before she turned to her daughter, who had just popped up beside her.

"Here's your lunch, Mother," she said brightly.

Gothel smiled and took the wicker basket looking box and said, "Now, remember, no answering the door unless it's me-"

"-and try not to get paint everywhere," Rapunzel said, knowingly, almost cheerfully. She nodded and Mother Gothel watched her for a moment before she wrapped her gently in a hug, stroking her daughter's hair, which was once again in a braid.

"That's my girl. I love you _very _much, dear," Gothel said.

"I love you more," came the reply.

"I love you most," Gothel said, and she pulled back and gently set a kiss on top of Rapunzel's head and then turned to the door.

Rapunzel darted to it before she could say a word and opened it, the locks all hanging unlocked on the door and its frame.

"Have a good day at work, Mother," Rapunzel said brightly.

"Let's hope so, darling," Gothel said, and she strode out of the house toward her dark red car.

Rapunzel closed the door and set the locks to be locked, inserting each and every little key into them and turning. She sighed and tucked them on top of the door frame before looking out the small rectangular window, seeing Mother Gothel take the car out of the driveway and into the street. The car hurried ahead and within a few seconds, Mother Gothel had disappeared, and Rapunzel let out a squeal and hastily ran to her room, where, on her bed, Pascal and her things were waiting.

"This is it, this is a VERY big day, Pascal," Rapunzel said excitedly, stumbling into her purple shoes and pulling her purse onto her shoulder. Pascal chirped excitedly and she grabbed her guitar from the bed, and held out her arm, saying, "Climb on."

He did so quickly and willingly, and the two of them exchanged a mischievous, nervous, guilty, and excited grin before Rapunzel turned and hurried down the spiraling stairs, the poster flapping in the air, the top of it held to her by her hand.

* * *

Flynn Rider was having a sort of a bad day. Well, it wasn't THAT bad, considering he had eaten a great deal of doughnuts, talked up a couple of managers and sat around judging people, but it was late afternoon, he had had to get up too early for his taste, and he was getting bored and tired of the excited but stupid hopefuls that came up on stage.

"And . . . will it ever end?" he said, shaking his head as he leaned his elbows against the judging table.

"Probably not," said one of the Stabbington brothers, who sat next to him and was one of the other judges.

Flynn wrinkled his nose and looked at the pictures of contestants with their applications in front of him. They had approximately one left, if he was correct, and he was anxious to get out of here. Sighing, he passed over his judge's profile picture, which was a pretty accurate picture of him, if he had a nose the size and look of a mangled potato.

"They just can't get my nose right," he said.

"Maybe you just need to choose a different angle to get a picture of," the Stabbington brother said.

"Nah, it's all their fault. They managed to somehow mess up this perfect face, and I'm so highly photogenic, it MUST be them," Flynn said. He leaned to the Stabbington brother and said, "Super-human good looks. Always had them, _BORN with it_."

The Stabbington brother, Jacob, snarled at him, making Flynn clear his throat and turn back in his seat, relaxing, his legs crossed over one another as he waved his hand, saying, "Bring in the last contestant."

Wilhelm, the other brother at the other end of the table, whittled at a piece of wood with his pocket knife absently while Jacob said, "Who's the last one?"

"Let's see," Flynn said. He ruffled through the papers and said, "Aha!" and pulled up a photo. The photos were all battery one-hour pictures, and this one was of . . . Blondie, the picture barely twelve hours old.

"Blondie?" he said incredulously. He studied the picture for a moment before giving a shrug and leaning back in his seat. He tossed the picture back onto the desk and leaned against his chair, his hands behind his head. "Guess she actually listened to me."

"Rapunzel Gothel," someone called out, and the blonde teen skipped onto the stage. Her hair was in the braid again, wearing tan capris and a pink shirt, a strap going around her torso. She looked down at the decorated guitar in her hand for a moment, tightening it and tuning it when she needed to. She looked up when Flynn cleared his throat, and the smile that was on her face disappeared.

"Hey, Blondie," Flynn said casually. "What are you playing for us?"

Rapunzel gasped. He-he hadn't told her he _was going to be there and judging her_. She thought that they'd never meet again, that maybe because Hook said the rest of the bar didn't like him she wouldn't see him again, but he was straight across from her, one leg over the either, looking relaxed and . . . interested.

"One of-of my own songs," Rapunzel said.

"Really?" Flynn said. He sounded cocky because she sounded almost cocky, and that surprised him. Going up to probably her first audition with her own made up song? Risky, bold, and something that fascinated him. He leaned forward, playing with a pen between his fingers, and said, "You really think your songwriting skills are up to par with every popular song floating around the country right now?"

Rapunzel looked defiantly back at him. "Yes."

"Then show me," he said eagerly, not missing a beat.

Rapunzel, still frowning, struck up a chord, getting herself into a nice rhythm, and took a deep breath. She needed to impress, and she needed a smile. She was not going to win by scowling at the guy who was her only chance.

She imagined Pascal's cheering her on backstage, and that made her want to laugh, for he was awfully adorable when he did so.

And so when she looked up from her guitar, she caught Flynn's eyes, and almost ignoring the pair of nearly identical judges, sang in a slow but sweet voice:

_I've got my mother's love_

_I shouldn't ask for more  
_

_I've got so many things  
_

_I should be thankful for  
_

_Yes, I have everything  
_

_Except, I guess, a door  
_

(At this part, she added a tiny giggle to her voice, making it almost seem more realistic and flowing than her smooth, angelic voice.)

_Perhaps it's better that I stay in_

_But tell me, when will my life begin?  
_

She stopped at the same time as her guitar. She looked at the stage and felt eyes burning into her. There was nothing more she didn't want to admit than that 'When She Loved Me' was one of the only outside songs she knew; she had heard it one day with her window open, and had made up songs herself ever since. This was the first one she thought of and the one she sang.

And then she became aware that the entire room was quiet. It was a fairly large old theater, but the four there didn't say a word.

Flynn, after a moment, shook his head to get himself back to reality, and said, "Um . . . well, that was . . ."

"I liked it," Jacob said.

Wilhelm nodded his agreement.

"The best of them all," Jacob said.

Flynn nodded and clearing his throat, turned to Rapunzel, who looked like she was holding her breath.

"Blondie, you did it," Flynn said.

"I did!?" Rapunzel said excitedly.

"Yeah. You're playing the gig," Flynn said, and he honestly didn't expect the girl to shriek, leap off of the stage and tackle him in a bone-breaking hug. He hadn't been hugged like that . . . ever, and he hadn't actually been hugged in decades.

She instantly backed away from him after a moment, and let out a nervous laugh as she tucked stray blonde hair back behind her ear.

Flynn cleared his throat again and was about to say something when Wilhelm cleared his own throat and handed Flynn a piece of paper. Flynn glanced at it, and then to Rapunzel, whose smile was fading slightly, and said, "You didn't leave an address."

"Nope," she said breathlessly.

"Or a phone number."

"Nuh-uh."

"Or an email address."

"I don't have one of those."

"How the heck do people contact you, Blondie?" Flynn said, leaning against his chair again. He let out a breath and said, "Look, if we're going to make this work, I need to be able to contact you. Practices and stuff, you know. Vocalization and all that. How am I supposed to-"

"The Snuggly Duckling," Rapunzel said suddenly, gasping slightly, as if she had just gotten an exciting idea. "We could meet there, we-we - they have one of those things? Cellphones? I've seen people on the street with cellphones." She looked awfully proud of herself.

"They have regular phones, Blondie," Flynn said. He sighed, and looked back at the application. It was barely filled out, but somehow she had made it on stage. And her voice . . . it filled his head, it was stuck in there, those lyrics, hauntingly there . . .

He couldn't let that go.

So he reached out his hand and said, "Fine. Tomorrow, ten A.M., okay?"

She managed to hold in another excited shriek as she grasped his firm hand and gave him the handshake. He nodded and winced slightly as she turned and cheered and ran backstage. He turned back to the other papers, but also glanced at his hand, the one she had shaken. He could still feel the ghost of her hand in his.

**Thanks for the feedback! God bless you!**


	3. Talking and Arguing

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled. Thank you for reading! God bless you!**

It was a quiet morning at the Snuggly Duckling. Seeing as it was morning, there was bright sunlight coming through the dusty and badly needing a cleaning windows. The crowd was not very big, due to many of the patrons working at the docks of San Fransisco. Just a couple at the bar, with Hook at the piano on the karaoke stage.

Rapunzel peeked into the bar, Pascal on her shoulder doing the same, and looked about carefully, looking for Flynn. She had just managed to escape the house after cleaning the kitchen and setting up a stew for a slow boil until supper. Her aim was to get home by four o'clock, which would leave plenty of time to look like she had been there all day before Mother got home.

Now it was ten AM, and she spotted Flynn lounging in one of the corners, hidden by a small kitchen opening and to the left of the stage. It was small, smoky, and had a light with cobwebs hanging over it. He had his legs crossed. He was leaning over a piece of paper on the table, a concentrated look on his face, his eyebrows bunched together. He reminded Rapunzel slightly of Mother when she got annoyed.

He noticed her, though, at the door, and she quickly stepped in, pulling her purse instinctively closer to her. Pascal hid in her hair as she made her way around the tables, stopping and smiling at Hook, who winked at her from the piano.

She took a rickety wooden seat across from Flynn, who let out a breath and slid his papers easily under his leather jacket, hiding them from Rapunzel. She cleared her throat and he said, "What?"

She smiled at his hipster look, and he scowled and instantly grabbed his reading glasses, which he had been using, and hid them in the hand pocket of his leather jacket. He usually only used them when he had to, and he scolded himself for thinking that just because he was in a tiny, hidden corner of the Snuggly Duckling didn't mean that he wouldn't be seen with them.

"Sorry 'bout that," he said, straightening in his seat.

Rapunzel straightened as he did, and didn't say anything about the fact that she didn't care if he wore them or not.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" he said, and she nodded eagerly, a few stray pieces of blonde hair falling from behind her ears into her face. Pascal came from behind her neck after a few minutes of them talking. Flynn asked professional questions that Rapunzel answered with excited or short or flustered answers; none of them were satisfactory to Flynn, who sighed and chewed the inside of his mouth on more than one occasion.

Pascal scowled and sat on the table next to Rapunzel's loosely clasped hands, hands on his hips, glaring at Flynn. Rapunzel looked at him, slightly worried, on occasion.

Flynn sucked in a breath and said, "Well, let's see. You won't give me your home address, email address, phone number, cellphone number, date of birth, nothing." He looked up at Rapunzel, who bit her lip and looked very worried. "I've got your first and last name and age. You're eighteen, though?" She hardly looked older than fifteen.

"Um, about that . . ." she said, tracing the ridges of the table.

"Wait, what now?" Flynn said.

"I'm going to be eighteen on the day _of _the concert_,_" Rapunzel said, gesturing with her hands and looking sheepish.

"You've got to be kidding me," Flynn said.

Rapunzel straightened at his tone and said, almost sternly, thinking frantically that he sounded too doubtful, "That's the truth, and I'll be legal the day I'm singing. So I'm fine."

Pascal came him an affirmative nod.

"Kid, this means I can only have you practicing with me for a few hours every day," he said. He shook his head and muttered to himself, "I don't think I can make this work."

Rapunzel looked to Pascal, who looked back at her with a slightly worried look. It disappeared after a moment, though, and he frowned and pounded his palm with his fist in a suggestive manner. He wanted her to go for it. She looked back to Flynn, who was looking at nails and sighing. She frowned; she needed this. He needed her singing and she needed this deal.

She straightened in her seat, "Look, Flynn Rider, I'm here because you offered me a deal-"

"That deal didn't have you being a fraud-" he said quickly.

"And you aren't?" she said incredulously. She couldn't help it, from Hook's warning to the way he was so flippant. It just seemed he was this mysterious character, this Flynn Rider, who just popped up. She knew what a lie was, and she had a feeling he was lying.

He looked up from his nails at that. "Hey, I've got a reputation as a talent scout in Hollywood. That's what you want, don't you, Blondie?" Flynn said quickly, almost defensively.

"Well, yes-" Rapunzel started.

"Then don't look a gift horse in the mouth," he said, leaning back in his chair, looking like he thought he had won the argument.

"What?" Rapunzel said.

"Nothing," he said, waving her off, making her frown harder.

She suddenly lurched forward, almost next to his face, and said, "Look here, _Flynn Rider_, we have a deal. I sing for you at this concert, and you have my voice. If not, I can tell the concert people that _you _have come up short with your job, because without me, you have an empty gig."

Flynn knew that she was definitely the singer he wanted; she had talent, a stage presence, beauty, and let's face it, a certain charm. Still, it almost sounded like the kid was _threatening _him, something he never thought possible coming from such a tiny teen.

"Look, Blondie," he said.

"My name is _Rapunzel_," she said quickly, frowning still.

"Yeah, I know-"

"Okay. Now, do we have a deal, or what you rather not have me singing?" Rapunzel said. She gave Flynn her fiercest glare; Pascal, next to her, nodded, glaring at the talent scout with a scowl.

Flynn sighed and said, "Look, I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice; here comes the Smolder." He dipped his head and came back up to look at her, his lips scrunched up, his eyes dazzling with a wee bit of innocence. Rapunzel thought he thought that it would make her comply to his rules, but not when she wanted this all to remain as secret as possible.

His seductive 'Smolder,' as he called it, didn't work, and it simply made the Pub Thugs around them break into chortles, making Flynn scowl and sit up straighter, his Smolder sliding off. Rapunzel raised an eyebrow but didn't say a word as Hook made a joke, making Flynn say to him loudly, "Hey, knock it off."

He turned back to Rapunzel and said after a moment of watching her intent face, "This is kind of an off day for me; this doesn't normally happen."

"It doesn't?" Rapunzel said, sounding still firm but curious.

"Yeah." He sighed and leaned back in his seat, saying, "Fine, I'll keep you on."

"Really?" Rapunzel said, almost incredulously. Her hand, which was holding her purse to keep it close to her on all occasions, lifted up along with her other hand in a victory whoop, hitting Flynn in the face.

"Ow!" he said loudly, cradling his nose.

She quickly drew her purse to her chest, saying, "Oops."

"You broke my Smolder," he said. He rubbed his nose and sighed, looking to her, "But luckily not my nose."

"Thank goodness. So, um, when do we begin?" Rapunzel said.

Flynn said, "Well, basically, I need you to come over everyday to this address," - he slid a card to her, which she took - "where we will work on your vocals and singing. Compose a song, write one-"

"Wait, we're writing a song?" Rapunzel said, sounding surprised. She had expected that he would come up with a song that everyone else knew, that she'd just sing that.

"Yeah. You've got your own act; we're not going to have you do a cover." He straightened and said, "How'd you come up with that song you sang yesterday, what-what was it called?"

"It was a bit of a song I've been working on," Rapunzel said quietly. She cleared her throat and said, "'When Will My Life Begin.'"

"You have the rest of it on you?" he asked, nodding to her purse.

She instinctively clutched it a bit tighter to herself, but she knew that he just wanted to know if she kept the pages in her purse. She shook her head and said, "I can bring it tomorrow, though."

"You've got a tune with it?"

"Yes, of course," Rapunzel said. Pascal nodded eagerly.

Flynn frowned to himself, more in thought, though, not in irritation. She had a song; from what he heard yesterday, she had song writing skills. 'Course, most anyone could write a song; it was having the right, catchy tune that went and lent and moved the lyrics; that was what he needed for this to become big. This could be big; The Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea were big, world-class acts, always at award shows and royal coronations with best selling albums and singles around the world.

He looked to Rapunzel, who was having some sort of one-sided conversation with Pascal. In a way, though, it was like her little chameleon was talking back to her, chirping and moving his hands around. She nodded back to the little green guy, saying quiet things like, "I know, but this could be it. I know, Mother . . ."

"Let's work on it tomorrow. Bring it with your guitar and leave the frog at home," Flynn said, standing up and moving his seat back into the table.

"Chameleon," Rapunzel said matter-of-factly.

"Nuance," Flynn said. He gave her a nod and hurried around the bar tables, leaving Rapunzel to squeal with Pascal at what had just happened. He shook his head at their weirdness as he left, wondering what he had just done and whether it was smart or not.

* * *

Rapunzel rushed to her bedroom, not even taking off her shoes now. It was only eleven o'clock, and Mother should be safely at work now. The teen entered her room, which smelled like spring, the open window scenting the room, and darted to her dresser.

Rummaging through one of the drawers, she pulled up a piece of paper. It was yellow, with words sprawled across it in pink pen.

She let out an excited breath and looked to Pascal, who sat on her shoulder, and gulped.

"I hope this works," she said. She then said, "Oops!" and grabbed her pink pen from her bedside table. Instantly, the last few lines were crossed out, allowing Rapunzel to let out a long breath.

"That's better," she whispered. Those lines had the intention to never be shown to anyone. Especially Flynn Rider.

Pascal could only nod.

* * *

Flynn looked at the yellow piece of paper in his hand, a hand at his forehead, the other wrinkling the yellow corners. He said the words under his breath, raised an eyebrow at the scribbles on the bottom of the paper, and finally looked up to Rapunzel, who was sitting on a bar stool in their vast practice room, a lightly colored, wooden floored room with mirrors and lights overhead. They were the only two in the room. Well, the only two humans. The frog was glaring at Flynn from where he was standing against one of the stool's legs, crossing his arms.

"This it?" he said.

"That's all," Rapunzel said, shrugging sheepishly. She had her hair in a braid once more, a hairband in her hair today, though. It made to show more of her face and large green eyes. She looked pleased, and that was probably because Mother had left for work that morning without a catch.

"Can you play the tune?" Flynn asked.

Rapunzel nodded and quickly found her spots on the guitar strings. Gently, strongly, she began to pluck a tune, bobbing her head to the beat.

It was a gentle guitar tune, and while Rapunzel looked pleased with herself, Flynn instantly shook his head and walking over to her, said, "No, no, no, no, no."

"What?" she said, surprised, stopping her playing.

"Look, I know it has a basic guitar tune, but you need backup, Blondie. A piano, a drummer, a-a something, a tambourine, heck, even an accordion. It's lacking; this isn't going to be some acoustic song. It needs to have depth; it needs to pop." He snapped his fingers in emphasis.

"I don't have any of those," Rapunzel said, straightening, frowning.

Flynn flashed her a smirk. "And that's why _I_, talent scout numero uno, is going to get musicians."

Rapunzel sighed and Flynn turned to his cellphone, and that was when Pascal ran up the leg of the bar stool and caught Rapunzel's attention.

"What is it, Pascal?" she asked. Pascal curled his fingers into a hook, wore a funny sneer, and made his paws go slightly up and down.

Rapunzel caught on quickly and said, grinning, "Brilliant idea, Pascal." She looked up and called to Flynn, "Hey," capturing his attention away from his cellphone to turn to her.

"What? I've got someone on the phone, Blondie-"

Rapunzel smiled and said, "I have an idea."

"What?"

"Of who we should have playing the instruments."

Pascal smirked and Rapunzel high-fived him at the stricken look on Flynn's face.

**Thanks for reading! God bless you!**


	4. Recruiting Hook and CORONA!

**Thank you, God, for everything. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled. I'm loving all the awesome feedback this story is getting ME GUSTA. Thanks for reading, all you lovely people! God bless you!**

"Rapunzel, dear," Mother Gothel said the next morning, April 5th. It was three weeks until the actual concert, a Saturday. Mother was home from work and therefore Rapunzel couldn't get out to see Flynn about the plan she and Pascal had devised.

She tried not to appear too anxious, though, as she turned from her knitting and said pleasantly, "Yes, Mother?"

Mother raised an eyebrow and said, "Your hair's in a braid, again."

"I was cleaning this morning, Mother," Rapunzel said quickly after a second, knowing that she had actually cleaned this morning, ending her sentence with a quick smile before she turned back to her knitting. She had gotten into quite the habit now. It made her feel a tiny bit rebellious, actually.

Mother Gothel looked at her bowed head for a moment before she sighed and gave up on the idea, settling back into her chair as she said, "Now, dear, a very important date is coming up." Rapunzel instantly looked up at her mother hopefully. "I've got a very large business appointment coming up in three weeks that'll be taking up my ENTIRE day." Rapunzel's face fell; she had hoped that Mother might have remembered her birthday. Neither of them had mentioned it at all, mostly because Rapunzel had hoped to not upset Mother's good moods with news of a day to worry about. Still, she had hoped that she would remember it on her own.

"Sounds wonderful, Mother," Rapunzel said.

"Oh, business is business, there's nothing but talking and yelling and-and screaming, and everyone is SUCH a barbarian, Rapunzel, I only go out because I have to," Mother told her, sighing deeply.

"Yeah," Rapunzel said quietly. She then sucked in a breath and said, "You know what else is coming up in three weeks?"

"What?" Mother asked.

"I'll give you a hint; I'll be WAY older on that day," Rapunzel said.

"Rapunzel, don't play riddles with me, not now-"

"All right, I'm going to tell you: It's my birthday!" Rapunzel said, scrunching her shoulders against herself and smiling big. She waved her hands slightly and said, "Ta da!"

Mother Gothel looked at Rapunzel, almost slightly taken back, for a moment before she said, "Of course not, dear. I distinctly remember. Your birthday was last year."

"That's the funny thing about birthdays: they're kind of an annual thing!" Rapunzel said. Her smile faltered, though, and an idea came to her. Her mother was going to be gone the night of her birthday which was also the night of the concert? This could work out very well.

She straightened and said in an innocent voice, "Does this mean that you won't be home for my birthday, Mother?"

"Oh, I'm afraid not, dear. But, business meetings; you can't work around them," Mother Gothel said, and Rapunzel looked up to see that she was standing in front of the hall mirror, applying mascara for the umpteenth time that day. The subject didn't matter very much to Gothel; that much was obvious. Rapunzel turned back to her knitting with a special sort of smile on her face. She looked to the cookie jar where Pascal was hiding. He changed color and gave her a quick thumb's up, something which she returned, smiling broadly.

* * *

"Okay, Blondie. WHY are we at the Snuggly Duckling again?" Flynn wanted to know. It was a bright Monday, with nineteen days until the concert. Over the entire weekend Flynn and Rapunzel had been separate, and she had left him at the studio without an explanation but a secretive smirk that had him wondering what the heck her idea was.

Now, they were supposed to head back to the studio to work on the song, but Rapunzel had called him from the Snuggly Duckling and told him to come over.

"I've got some exciting news," she had told him, and now she was standing in front of him, wearing tan capris and a sun yellow T-shirt. The chameleon was on her shoulder, looking protective. "Come in," she said, and Flynn followed her into the bar.

It was an early to mid-afternoon, and the bar was slightly fuller than it was in the mornings. Right about the crowd Rapunzel had first sung to.

Flynn looked around, trying to catch sight of some musician, someone who stuck out of the crowd as clean and talented, but only saw the usual bar crowd.

"All right, I give up. What is it, Blondie?" he said, hands on his hips, looking to Rapunzel.

She gave him her secretive smile and then turned and waving a hand, yelled, "Hey, Hook!"

Flynn groaned as the security guard grinned at seeing the girl and came up to them. "Hey," he said. He joked, "It's been a while."

"I know! Far too long," Rapunzel said. She looked from Hook to Flynn to Hook again and said to Flynn, "What do you think?"

"About what? The decor? The hook?" Flynn asked sarcastically.

"Our new pianist," Rapunzel said happily.

"What?" Hook said at the same time Flynn said incredulously, annoyed, "Are you kidding me? Blondie!"

Hook glared at Flynn, who folded his arms over his chest, and turned to Rapunzel, looking positively elated. "You need me as a pianist?"

"Yes." Rapunzel drew a poster for the concert from her purse and said, smiling, "I'm doing the opening act. I wrote a song but Flynn wants me to add more to the music. I need a band. I'll play guitar, and I need a pianist."

Hook took the poster and Rapunzel grasped her purse to herself, saying, "Can you do it? We'll need to do practices, and work with the song, but please, because you are literally the only person I know who can play the piano." She smiled brightly and said, "You play it so well too."

Pascal nodded, agreeing, and Hook looked up from the poster. That was when Flynn sighed and said to Hook, "Excuse me for a moment." He gently grasped Rapunzel's forearm and turned her and himself away from Hook, saying quickly, "What was that, Blondie?"

"Hook can play the piano. It'll be perfect with my song! Why don't you like him?" she said, looking from Flynn to the pleased-as-punch Hook.

Flynn caught her attention as he said, "Because he hates me back, has had to wrestle me out of here when I've been too drunk, and I am NOT having him playing piano on a high end stage at a big concert, Blondie!"

Rapunzel ripped her hand from his grasp, saying in a low voice, "You're having me."

"Hey, I LIKE you, Blondie, and you can sing; now this guy, he plays piano during the morning shift when no one is dead drunk except the hung over guy at the bar!" Flynn said.

"So? That doesn't mean he isn't good. Flynn!" Rapunzel said. She added pleadingly, "Please!"

"Blondie-"

"You don't have anyone else-"

"I can find someone-"

"Who? Flynn!" and the two both sighed greatly and folded their arms, glaring at the other, though Rapunzel's face could hardly count as a glare.

Flynn finally sighed and said, turning to Hook, "Fine, we've got YOU as the pianist!"

"That's great!" Hook said.

Rapunzel, at the same time, squealed loudly, probably breaking any hearing aids that the patrons were wearing, and instantly wrapped her arms around Flynn, hugging him tightly for a moment in her happiness. He grunted, not used to affection from her, and she let go and turned, undeterred, to Hook, and said, "Do you know anyone who can play drums?"

"I got this college kid working for me. Can play the accordion a bit. I'll see what he can do," Hook said.

"That sounds so great! Right, Flynn?" Rapunzel said, throwing him a look.

Flynn sighed but nodded. "Yeah, we'll expect you at THIS address" - he handed Hook one of the studio's business cards - "tomorrow morning at ten." He looked to Rapunzel and said, "We've got a lot more practicing now, Blondie. And you need to rework your song a bit."

"And that's where you're helping me, right, Flynn?" Rapunzel said cheerfully. Pascal threw the man a look, making Flynn nod.

Rapunzel nodded and hurried to the door, making Flynn go after her. Hook waved after them, saying, "You all come back now, you hear?"

The two young adults and the chameleon walked down the dirty, cracked sidewalk as they made their way to the prestigious part of the city. Rapunzel, one hand holding tightly to her purse, which had its strap on her shoulder, and her other swinging slightly by her side, looked dreadfully pleased with herself. She was _humming_.

"That was your plan, Blondie?" Flynn said, incredulous, (annoyed sounding as well), as he hurried to keep up with her short, quick steps.

"Yes, and it was a VERY good plan. You agreed to it," Rapunzel said, nodding.

"You're persuasive," he said.

"Is that a good thing?" Rapunzel asked as they came to an intersection. Flynn automatically reached out in front of her, holding his arm out to keep her from going out into the busy street.

"It's a good thing you've got that purse on you," Flynn said sarcastically.

Rapunzel frowned, holding her black purse protectively, and said, "I will use this."

"Exactly what I thought."

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow, which he raised back, and then nodded for her to go ahead and cross the road. After a few minutes of walking past the patrons of Hollywood, Flynn got an idea (and as he said it, he had no idea why he had gotten it or why he was mentioning it to Rapunzel at all). He turned to Rapunzel, making them both stop, and said, "Hey, are you hungry? I know a great place for lunch."

"Um, okay. What's it called?" Rapunzel asked.

"It's a outdoors-y, farmer's market sort of place," he said. They walked on, and he continued, "It's warm out and it's out in the open. I think you'll like it. They sell ducklings there!"

"Well, I DO like ducklings," Rapunzel said, remembering.

"Yay!" Flynn said sarcastically, and after a few minutes of walking around and asking for directions from a police officer ("Flynn, you're lost! Just ask for directions!" "A real man doesn't need to ask for directions!" "Flynn!" "Ugh, fine . . ."), they arrived at a cute long bridge. They walked over it and a large, rushing river that blended in well with the grassy pastures and trees of what looked like a park.

"Ah, there it is. Corona!" Flynn said, and he waved ahead to a little place that made Rapunzel gasp with delight. It was like a smaller part of the city, with apartments that were close together and an open air market and people talking and walking everywhere on a tan rock paved road. It was like a little place from Europe, in Flynn's opinion, but as Rapunzel had never seen such a place as Italy or any part of Europe to compare it to, she just thought it a lovely little piece of heaven she had never seen.

"Flynn!" she said. She turned and started walking backwards, jumping up and down excitedly. She could barely talk, it was so wonderful.

"You're welcome," he said, walking after her. "Careful, Blondie. Don't want anyone walking on your hair."

"Good thing I've got a braid in, then, huh?" Rapunzel said shakily with a laugh. She turned around and stepped off the bridge into the market. It smelled like fresh bread and pastries and vegetables. There was stalls marketing everything right next to the apartments, where children were laughing and riding on skates and playing jacks and skipping ropes.

Rapunzel spun around, laughing, giggling, so incredibly excited. Pascal cheered from her shoulder.

She stopped when she saw Flynn watching her, hands on his hips, a curious look on his face.

"So," she said breathlessly, straightening. "Where do we go first?"

**Thanks for reading! God bless you!**


	5. Nearly Drowning

**Thank you, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled. AT ALL.**

The entire forenoon and afternoon were the best Rapunzel had ever experienced in her life. There was so much to do, so much to see, she practically dragged and tugged and pulled Flynn around, Pascal only not being flung away by his tight grip on her T-shirt.

Rapunzel couldn't help it, of course. It was hard not to be overly excited when she found a library and she and Flynn checked out nearly EVERY SINGLE BOOK in the entire establishment. She eagerly helped put away the books, though, and talked kindly and enthusiastically about the books with the librarian, who was warm and kind to Rapunzel, such lovers of books they were.

Flynn stood in the background, checking out an old fairytale book of his youth, while Rapunzel put away books, and looked up, startled, when Rapunzel called his name. He put it away, and the two headed back out into the sunny mini village.

There was street performers playing drums and guitars and tambourines, and Rapunzel danced to the music; it was so wonderful. Everyone around the village were surprised but pleased about how happy she was and how she naturally had a warmth about her.

Afterwards, she got a hold on some chalk and drew flowers along the ground, watched by Flynn, until he called for a lunch break.

Rapunzel stood up, wiping at her forehead, saying, "Flynn, I gotta say. This is the best. Day. Ever!"

"Well, that's a big thing to say, Blondie, considering this is nothing but an outing," Flynn said.

"But it really is! I have NEVER had this much fun in my LIFE!" Rapunzel said. She beamed, and reached and linked Flynn's arm with hers, and it was with that that the two went to one of the marketing stalls and picked up a lunch of bread, cheese, grapes, tomatoes, and sodas.

After the lunch, Flynn bought them cupcakes, even for Pascal, despite himself, who gobbled it all down in one bite and nearly succeeded in choking himself. Rapunzel had had to pound on his back as he turned red before he hacked and turned green again, though greener than usual.

"Wanna take a walk?" Flynn said, looking around the vast village.

"Can we go on a bridge? Please?" Rapunzel said brightly, looking expectantly to Flynn.

He nodded after a moment. He knew of a small white bridge that connected the two parts of the village, which had a river running through the center of it. Rapunzel leapt up, and the two of them hurried to the bridge, stopping, breathing heavily, once they were on it.

Rapunzel leaned over the white railing of the bridge and let out an excited breath as she looked out over the crystalline, dark water. It moved at a slow pace, if it moved at all.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she whispered.

"Yeah, I guess so," Flynn said, eating his cupcake like an apple.

"What are those?" Rapunzel said, pointing out her arm over the water. Pascal crawled off of her and onto the railing, leaning over as well.

"Gondolas," Flynn said, both of his arms folded slightly and set on the railing. "They're boats."

Each of the boats were full of happy couples. Rapunzel sighed happily and said, cradling her chin in her hands, "They look so happy."

Flynn looked from the gondolas to Rapunzel, his gaze softening on her, and said, "I guess so."

"I've really been enjoying myself. Thanks for bringing me, Flynn," Rapunzel said, looking to Flynn, and her eyes, to him, seemed so lovely and innocent against her face with her freckles and blonde braid.

He glanced away, and he felt something. He wanted to tell her something, something that he had never told anyone before. And he didn't know quite why he trusted her, but maybe it was just her treatment toward him, the way that she talked to him so kindly, being so friendly. He whispered, after a moment of internal debate, "Eugene."

Rapunzel immediately looked to him, saying, her voice sounding surprised, "What?"

"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. I'm not really Flynn Rider," Eugene said, shrugging.

Rapunzel watched him for a moment before asking, "Why did you change your name?"

"Ah, I'll spare you the story of the poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert," Eugene said. She shifted a little closer to him, her eyes searching for him, wondering why.

"There was this book I read to the littler kids at St. Mary's, the orphanage I used to live in. The Tales of Flynnigan Rider. Swashbuckling rogue, richest man alive. He was a legend, a huge fairytale." Eugene spoke of him with admiration.

"He was a fairytale?" Rapunzel said quietly, after a second of quiet.

"Um, yeah," Eugene said, shrugging. He let out a breath. "He was fictional. After I grew up and out of the orphanage, I legally changed my name. I didn't like my original one. I got mocked for it. Flynn just sounded much more . . . it was nicer."

"I like Eugene, though," Rapunzel said, her voice soft.

"You do?" Eugene said quietly.

"Yeah. It fits you," Rapunzel said.

Now, the bridge's railings were very short, only about three feet tall. Both were leaning against them, using them a lot for supporting their weight, and neither of them were noticing (for they were far too busy looking into each other's eyes) when their hands slipped, and they shrieked and both fell forward into the river.

Rapunzel was promptly swallowed by the water. Albeit, it was very soft, slow water, but she couldn't help but thrash around, feeling it fill her. Somehow she made it to the surface of the water, and she gasped and looked around, saying, "Eugene?"

Eugene came up, coughing, and he said, hurrying to her, "You okay?"

"I think so," she said, coughing. The water was five feet deep, and having never swam before, she was having a very tough time keeping her feet moving around to keep up from drowning.

"Here," Eugene said, gasping, as he wrapped an arm around her waist and his other under her legs, and started her to the shore.

Several people were on the shore, watching, concerned, as the two of them came up out of the water. Pascal watched from the bridge and when they came to the shore, he ran down the railing and down the sidewalk toward the two humans.

He chirped and the two fell on the bank, gasping. Rapunzel pushed back her hair after a moment, though, looking relieved as she stood up, saying, "We're alive. I'm alive!"

"Course you're - HACK - alive, princess," Eugene said, standing up shakily after a moment. He refused assistance from some of the nice people in the crowd, which slowly started to dissolve after realizing that neither of them needed any help. He stood up beside Rapunzel as she started to squeeze the water out of her hair, and he said, almost brightly as he knocked at his head, trying to get whatever water he had in his ears out, "Well, that went well."

Rapunzel laughed. "Very."

"Didn't ruin the trip for you?" he asked, almost surprised.

"No," she said. She smiled and said, "Well, I WAS a little scared, but it was refreshing."

He stared at her for a moment, taking off his leather jacket to hang over his shoulder to dry, and said after a moment, "You're AMAZING." How could she honestly be this cheerful after almost drowning?

Rapunzel smiled, hoping he didn't hear her heart pounding or the unmistakable blush coming onto her freckled face, and said, "Why, thank you, Eugene."

* * *

Rapunzel strummed her guitar, looking up and smiling at the musicians around her. It was two weeks before the concert and they were rehearsing, leading to Hook being busy tuning the electric keyboard and arguing with Eugene at the same time, making the talent scout sigh and drag a hand down his face in frustration. He still wasn't happy about this arrangement, but Rapunzel had confidence in them.

And, yes, she still had confidence when Eric, the college kid, fumbled over his accordion, which made Eugene walk up to him and ask, "Can you play ANY other instruments?"

"Like, like what?" Eric asked nervously.

"The song needs another guitar. Can you do that?"

Eric nervously nodded, and was handed a guitar to go with his sheet of music notes.

Rapunzel nodded and said, standing up, "Eugene, should we start rehearsal then?"

Eugene nodded after a moment, sinking into a swivel chair. He looked across the studio room at Rapunzel with her guitar, Eric with his electric guitar, Hook at the keyboard, and a large man named Vlad at the drums, which were somehow smaller than him.

This was going to go fabulously.

Eugene sighing, stood up, and holding up his sheet music, looked to the band and said, "Now, Rapunzel, you know when to start singing." They had reworked the song to go with other instruments, which Eugene practiced doing the chords as they rewrote it. He didn't choose to join the band, though, only knowing a few chords. He looked to the others and said, "NONE of you sing. You sing, I can't deal with you people anymore."

"Whatever you say, Rider," Hook said, and he started off on the keyboard. Eric joined him, and then Vlad, and Rapunzel took a deep breath, and then started off on the guitar.

Within a few seconds, which she counted off to herself, she started to sing, and then when she got to _"then I'll brush and brush and brush and brush my hair,"_ she stumbled.

She gulped and the music stopped, and she looked back to Eugene, wondering what critique he had for that.

He just said, his voice sounding patient, "Just start up again. See _this _is why we're rehearsing."

Rapunzel smiled, and started on the guitar again. And they practiced, sometimes stumbling. Eugene yelled, but only at Hook, Eric, and Vlad. Never at Rapunzel.

Pascal watched from the top of a bar along the mirrors which were on the sides of the walls. He smiled a lot the entire time, taking in what was happening. Yes. He approved of this wholeheartedly. Not only was Rapunzel out in the world and happy and laughing, he saw that Eugene was enjoying himself as well. That made him just as glad.

* * *

"Pascal, come on, we've got to hurry," Rapunzel said excitedly. She skipped about her kitchen that next Wednesday, ten days before the concert. Things were really picking up now at the studio, and she needed to get there quickly. She was putting on her shoes and somehow managed to get them on. She grabbed her purse and Pascal came hurrying to her. He ran up her arm and they dashed to the door, which they unlocked and exited through.

On the sidewalk, the two of them let out a relieved breath and walked casually down the sidewalk, both feeling better now that they were out of the house-

"Rapunzel?" she heard, and she stopped in her tracks.

Rapunzel's heart stopped and her face paled, and she turned slowly to see Mother Gothel in her car beside her, her sunglasses and her entire face glaring at her.

"WHAT are you doing out here? Get in this car, right now!" Mother said quickly, glancing about and pounding the seat next to her. "NOW, Rapunzel!"

Rapunzel hastened to obey, opening her purse slightly as she slid into her seat. Pascal crawled from under her hair into her purse, away from detection.

"We shall talk about this when we get home," Gothel said, sounding almost calm now, and within a minute she drove back into their driveway.

**Thank you for reading, all you absolutely lovely folks! God bless you!**


	6. The Stadium

**Thank you, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled. Thank you for reading!**

Rapunzel trembled as she walked into the house. Mother Gothel followed her, locking the door behind her before she turned very quickly and said angrily, "What was THAT, Rapunzel! You could have been seen! You could have been kidnapped, or captured by some ne'er-do-well, or ruffian, or thug! How could you betray me, Rapunzel!? I leave home, just to earn us a living so we won't starve, and you betray my trust, Rapunzel! Do you want me to lock you in your tower while I'm gone!?" Her face was bright red, and she stepped forward, yelling, "RAPUNZEL!"

"I'm sorry, Mother," Rapunzel said, but Mother was much too steamed to let this go so quickly.

"You are ALWAYS to stay here, Rapunzel," she said loudly, angrily.

"But Mother, you don't understand-" Rapunzel started pleadingly.

"Rapunzel!"

"Nobody EVER tries to attack me or anything-"

"Rapunzel!"

"Oh, come ON-"

"ENOUGH, Rapunzel! You are _never_ leaving this house, EVER!" and Mother looked the angriest Rapunzel had ever seen her, and she sank into one of the kitchen chairs, holding her purse to her, not saying a word, though her mother's words echoed in her head, pounding into her brain, sending her inwardly into one state: NO.

Mother Gothel groaned and fell onto one of the sofas, saying, "Oh, great, now I'M the bad guy."

Rapunzel gulped. She was just caught, but she could avoid this again. Her mother had just come back and spotted her because she had forgotten something. She just needed to be sneakier and leave later after the possibility of her mother coming back was gone.

Quick, an apology.

Rapunzel stood up and said, tentatively stepping forward, "I'm sorry, Mother. That was very wrong of me."

Mother Gothel sighed and stood up, and she looked a bit more relieved as she walked to Rapunzel and wrapped her in a hug, saying in a soothing voice, "You know I'm just worried about you, Rapunzel, and am only doing this for your own good."

"Of course, Mother," Rapunzel said.

"I love you very much, Rapunzel."

"I love you more." Her reply is almost automatic.

"I love you most," and Rapunzel felt the customary stroke and kiss on her hair. It didn't feel as soothing as it usually was, though.

* * *

Eugene, on the Friday morning before the concert, lay on the horn of his car. It was eleven in the morning, and he was sure that Blondie was just taking a while to brush her hair. She sure had a lot of it.

He leaned back against his chair and frowned. A couple of weeks ago, she hadn't arrived at a practice. He didn't know where she lived, so he couldn't go asking her what happened. He called the Snuggly Duckling, but there was no answer from her. It was damn frustrating, especially when she had arrived the next day, a little later than usual, but just as cheerful, without a word of explanation. He was getting to be worried about her.

At least he had her address now. He was taking her to the Disney Stadium where they were going to have a rehearsal before the concert tomorrow.

He was driving an open air car, the roof pulled back. It was old and had been broken, and he had managed to fix it. Except when it broke on him, and he had to pull over on the roads and try to fix the thing. He now tapped the top of the scrolled down window next to him and honked his horn, and he looked up when he heard, "Eugene!"

Rapunzel was hanging out of her tower window, a delighted look on her face as she said, "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get you to hurry up," Eugene said, smiling up at her.

"I'm coming. Just a second," and she disappeared and within a minute, she and Pascal were out the front door, and she hurried around to the side of the blue car.

"This is so cool, Eugene!" Rapunzel, who had never ridden in a car, said as she slid into the passenger seat, smiling brightly.

"Thanks," he said, and he was happy she liked it because he wasn't terribly proud of the way it kept breaking down. "Put your seatbelt on."

"Oh, like this?" and Rapunzel put it on and he nodded. He pulled out of the driveway and they started down the street.

After a bit, Eugene said, "Was that your mother I saw earlier?"

"What?" Rapunzel gasped, looking at him horrified.

"Yeah, I've been here for a while. I stayed around the corner, and I watched her leave. The woman with the black curls, right?" he turned to look at her at a red light. "She came from your house."

Rapunzel let out a nervous laugh and ran a hand through her hair, almost inwardly panicking. "Yeah, that was, um, her."

"She doesn't look like you," Eugene said, stealing a look at her as they streamed down the streets to the stadium. "Now, you know who you look a LOT more like?"

"Who?" Rapunzel asked.

"William and Catherine Corona. They made that little village we went to. They're big names in Hollywood. Big celebrities," Eugene said, and he fished out a magazine. He handed it to Rapunzel, who instantly settled in her seat, Pascal looking over her shoulder. On the cover was the Coronas, and according to the magazine, they were looking for a big new act to sweep the nation.

"Mr. Corona's a band manager. Well, he owns the studios. He's a huge name in the music industry. His wife is always with him." Without looking, he poked a finger at Catherine, saying, "Doesn't she look like you, Blondie?"

"Wow, I guess she does," Rapunzel said. Pascal nodded.

Eugene continued, "They were a part of a huge scandal a while back. A WHILE back. I read back up on it when I got into the industry. Their daughter was kidnapped from them, and the authorities never found the kidnapper or the baby."

"That's horrible," Rapunzel said, sounding shocked as she looked from the magazine to Eugene.

"Yeah. It was strange, though. The kidnapper didn't leave a trace or anything. Not even a ransom note. Celebrity babies are precious things; they usually have bodyguards. There weren't any in her bedroom that night, though. She's been gone for almost eighteen years. The hype about her has nearly gone down. I think that's why the Coronas are having this concert tomorrow. It'll be their daughter's birthday then," Eugene said, and he drove up to the stadium's parking lot, which was vast and huge and with only a few cars in it.

"That's sad," Rapunzel said as he parked the car.

"Yeah, but what can we do about it, huh? It is what it is," Eugene said. He smiled at her and said, "C'mon, let me show the place."

Rapunzel grinned and bounced out of her seat and the two (with Pascal) walked side by side toward one of the back entrances to the stadium.

"Here you go," Eugene said, and he handed her the program for the evening. Rapunzel gasped at the brightly colored cover with the Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea on the front, all looking wonderful and glorious with their microphones and wonderful outfits. They looked so professional, and then Eugene bent down over her and pointed to the corner of the lower right hand side, and Rapunzel gasped.

Her name, in bold letters, was on the program, calling her the opening act with her new single.

"Eugene, that's amazing!" Rapunzel said, smiling brightly as he put a hand on her waist and guided her through the many halls and doors of the stadium.

"I know," he said teasingly, and then he opened the door to backstage, which was filled with tables, electrical equipment, chairs, sofas, clothes, and closets. He opened a door to under the stage and showed her the platform she would stand on and get moved up through the stage at the actual performance.

"Just see the stage, okay?" he said, holding her hand, and added: "Close your eyes."

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow, but obliged, and he led her through a door and up the stairs to the stage, looking over his shoulder and then back to her, and how she trusted him to guide her with her eyes closed. He smiled to himself and once they were in the middle of the stage, he let go of her hand, and backing away slightly, said, "Okay. Open."

Rapunzel did so, and gasped. All around her were seats, rows upon rows of dark gray seats that were set all around the curves of the circular stadium. There was separating halls between several rows, and there was the balconies!

"Eugene!" Rapunzel said loudly, turning to find him smiling at her from sidestage. "This looks AMAZING!" She waved her hands and turned to see the giant screen right behind her.

"That" - Eugene pointed to the screen - "will feature you on it so the whole audience can see you even better."

"It's so BIG!" Rapunzel said. She gasped and said, even more quietly, "It's all so big."

"You're not afraid, are you?" Eugene asked her, walking toward her, arms folded.

"No; well, a little." She sighed. "It's complicated."

"And you can't tell me?" he asked quietly.

Rapunzel took a deep breath and said, looking around, "Well, it's so much bigger than I imagined. What . . . what if I fail miserably and ruin my dream?"

Eugene smiled. "You won't ruin it."

"How can you be sure?" Rapunzel asked him.

"I can't be. But I've seen you play, Blondie," Eugene said. He cleared his throat and said sincerely, "You've got what it takes."

"'It?'" Rapunzel asked, uncertain.

"The spunk, the talent, whatever you want to call it, Blondie," Eugene said. "You won't screw up. Promise."

Rapunzel let out a breath and said, sounding relieved, "I hope you're right."

**Thank you for reading! God bless you!**


	7. Realization and Escape!

**Thank you, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled. Or Disney. This is the second-to-last chapter. Expect the last one tomorrow. **

Rapunzel hoped she didn't look very suspicious the whole of Saturday morning. She did her chores while her mother packed her things and shoved them then into her car, which involved the teen to run around the house to locate her jacket and her scattered makeup for her.

"Rapunzel, I am heading off," Mother Gothel said, looking to the teen from the kitchen table where she was finishing up with the packing of her purse.

"Okay, take care, Mother," Rapunzel said, almost hurriedly.

"Oh, Rapunzel, could you go fetch me a fresh pack of mints?" Mother asked.

"Um, sure, Mother," Rapunzel said, hurrying to one of the drawers of the kitchen.

"Oh, never mind," Mother said, waving a hand, and to her horror, she reached for Rapunzel's purse across the table and began to search through it like it was hers, saying, "I'll just take some of yours," and Rapunzel's heart stopped in her chest when Gothel's hand stopped and pulled out the program, which she had thought was safely tucked away in one of the inner pockets.

"Rapunzel. Gothel's voice voice sounded disappointed. She sank into one of the chairs, and then her face slowly started to flame up into an ugly red, and she stood up, looking dark and almost murderous.

"Mother, please, you've got to try to understand," Rapunzel said, backing away against the counter. "I haven't been hurt or anything, I've ENJOYED myself-"

"ENJOYED yourself, Rapunzel? Throwing away all the years and years of me keeping you safe? You could have been seen!" Gothel stepped toward her, and Rapunzel gulped and began to edge around the kitchen, scared as she was, but also growing angry at her mother.

"There could have been cameras!" Gothel continued yelling.

"What about cameras?" Rapunzel, having had Eugene explain them to her, wondered why Gothel was worried about that. It wasn't as if she didn't want anyone to see her - was it?

"Rapunzel! You disobeyed me!" Gothel said, her voice slick and hissy.

Rapunzel grew angry then, and her face grew pink and her frightened look changed and she frowned and yelled, "And YOU LIED to ME! EVERYTHING you have EVER told me about the outside world is WRONG!"

"Rapunzel!" Gothel yelled, and Rapunzel had edged her way to the stairway to her tower.

"YOU started it! And I believed you!" Rapunzel yelled, and Gothel advanced on her, whispering, "Fine, you want ME to be the bad guy? Fine, I'll be the bad guy," and she shoved Rapunzel into the stairs and closed the door behind her, locking her in the tower.

Rapunzel gasped and standing up, pushed on the door, yelling angrily, "Mother!"

Gothel pocketed the key and taking up her purse and jacket, walked to the front door, and opening in, turned to the screaming door and said simply, quietly, "It's for your own good, Rapunzel," and she disappeared.

* * *

Just a few minutes later, Eugene drove up in his car, and yelled, tapping on his scrolled down window, "Hey, Blondie! Let's go!"

He didn't get an answer. He didn't get an answer for ten minutes, and that was when he started to get a little bit concerned. Considering the last time she had at least let him know that she was late, he was hoping for the same case here. Not so.

After fifteen minutes, he sighed and got out of his car. Slamming the door, he walked up to the front door, and raised an eyebrow when he saw that there was no doorbell. He knocked on the door instead, his hand falling back to rest in a fist on his hip.

No answer.

There was a muffled sound, though, that sounded almost like Rapunzel . . . oh no . . .

Screaming?

"Rapunzel?" Eugene called, getting very worried.

The screaming stopped.

"Eugene?"

That was her.

"Hey, open the door, honey, come on."

"I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Mother must have locked it! Eugene, I'm locked up in my tower!"

"What?" he said, astounded, and then quickly a plan formulated in his mind. "Blondie, go to your tower window. Now!"

"Okay, Eugene," and he stepped off of the front porch of the pretty suburban home and hurried to the backyard, jumping over a tall, grey wire fence. He hurried across the pretty grass with its wildflowers and looked up at the tall, tall tower, shielding his eyes with his hand and wishing that he had put on sunglasses.

"Rapunzel? Rapunzel, let down your hair," he called, cupping his hands to his mouth.

A few seconds passed.

Then a minute.

Then a rushing length of glorious, blonde hair came tumbling down the sides of the tower, singing through the window, remnants of flowers and string caught in it. It must have taken her a minute to untangle the braid her hair was most likely in before she pushed the whole lot out the window.

He barely waited for it to settle before he caught the hair and used it as momentum as he began to climb up the side of the tower, which was artfully painted brick and had moss growing on it.

He wasn't used to climbing things, but he grunted and kept going up the length of hair, hoping that Rapunzel wasn't letting him yank the hair out of her scalp and had been smart enough to not make it taut.

He came up the side of the tower and caught hold of the windowsill, and he let go of her hair and pulled himself in, gasping for breath, through the window, and as he slammed into the floor, the first thing he heard (besides the unavoidable thump) was, "Huh! Eugene!"

"Hold on a minute, Rapunzel," and Eugene rolled over so that he was on his back, and before him was the bright and relieved looking face of Rapunzel, Pascal on her shoulder, wiping at his forehead, letting out a breath.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he said, and he sat up, nearly bonking her in the head, but she quickly moved away toward the window and started to pull up her hair.

"What are we going to do? Now we're BOTH stuck," Rapunzel said.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah, Rapunzel," Eugene said, and he held up a pin. "I'm good at picking locks."

Rapunzel grinned and began to braid her hair again as Eugene hurried down the spiraling staircase of the tower (which had carpeted stairs and a light switch that turned on lanterns overhead) and to the locked door, where he quickly inserted the pin and started to finagle with it. The sound of quick footsteps came up behind him as he grunted and turned the knob to no avail.

"Wow," Rapunzel said, letting out a heavy breath as she leaned against the wall of the tower, having run the entire staircase.

"How'd you get locked in here, anyway?" Eugene asked, glancing at her as he worked away at the lock.

"My mother found out that I was going and locked me in here," Rapunzel said.

"Where's your mother now?"

"On a business trip," Rapunzel said.

"So she left you here just locked up in your tower? That's child abuse," Eugene said, and the door became unlocked, and he swung it open and the two stormed toward the front door after Rapunzel grabbed her purse, and the door Eugene quickly opened.

"She's been trying to keep me in the house my ENTIRE life," Rapunzel said as she closed the door and hurried away to Eugene's car.

"Okay, Rapunzel, she CAN'T be your mother," Eugene said, taking his seat and starting up the car, knowing now that they'd be late for last minute things backstage.

"Why not?" Rapunzel asked, almost worried as they swung out into the street.

"NO mother would lock up their kid in a house for eighteen years," Eugene said. He shook his head as he looked over his shoulder and then headed down the street. "You don't resemble each other or anything. Are you adopted?"

"Eugene, I don't even know what that MEANS," Rapunzel said, shaking her head.

"She's not your mother, Rapunzel, that's just the TRUTH," Eugene said, shaking his head as well.

They rode on in silence for a few minutes, letting the reality and weight of what had just transpired fall on them as they headed down the highway.

"Oh," Eugene said, after a moment. He turned to Rapunzel and said, "Happy birthday."

Rapunzel smiled brightly and said, "Thank you," and they were both cheered up as they rode on to the stadium.

There was a lot cars in the parking lot by the time they got there, and they hurried out and to the backstage. It was around fiveish, and the concert started at seven. Rapunzel needed to be ready by 6:50.

She was rushed from Eugene's arms by a woman with a headphone set and a clipboard to makeup, which was a room devoted to the cosmetics and application of said cosmetics. Rapunzel was hurried in a chair that swiveled around as the woman hurried to get a makeup artist on her.

"Whoa!" Rapunzel said, planting her feet on the floor to catch herself. She looked up and gasped. Next to her was a blonde-haired teen, with hair that was getting put into a lovely sort of floating ponytail. She had very dark eyes and a lovely pink and blue, slightly sparkling, dress that went down right above her knees.

"You're-you're," Rapunzel said, stuttering.

The other teen smiled at her as powder was added to her cheeks. "I'm Aurora."

"You're one of the nine Princesses!" Rapunzel said, her whole face lighting up with an excited glow.

"That's right," Aurora said, and Rapunzel looked from left to right and beside her, down the long tables with tall mirrors with light bulbs over them, were the other eight Princesses. Ariel was working her hair with a fork; Cinderella was putting on glass slippers; Jasmine was brushing her long, black hair.

"You're opening for us, aren't you, Rapunzel?" Mulan said, hopping into black slippers.

Rapunzel nodded meekly, and Mulan nodded approvingly. "Sounds good. Can't wait to hear you sing."

"Where's Sebastian gone off to?" Pocahontas asked as she put on a dark blue necklace.

"He's with his orchestra, rambling about something," Belle said, and the same woman who had pushed Rapunzel into her seat came rushing in and put a pile of notes into Ariel's hands, saying, "Sebastian wants you to look at those!"

"What's happening?" Rapunzel wanted to know.

"Oh, you see, Sebastian and the Sea are going to go after us, and we're going after you," Snow White said patiently, sweetly. "Then we're coming in for the finale with Sebastian and the Sea playing. Ariel hasn't been to all the rehearsals."

"I've got stuff to buy! There's so many little shops in Hollywood! It's AMAZING," Ariel said defensively.

Rapunzel let out a happy laugh, and time passed quickly and before she knew it, Eugene came hurrying into the room, saying, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel!"

"Yes?" Rapunzel said quickly, standing up.

Eugene looked to her, and he could barely believe his eyes. The makeup artist hadn't changed too much about her. Her braid was in better shape and with fake flowers pinned to it so they wouldn't wilt under the lights. Her eyes sparkling with just a shading of light brown eyeshadow and a dash of glitter that accented it. Her lips had a bit of light pink lipstick; her fingernails were clean and prim. Her outfit was purple and jeans and wonderfully fitting on her. She looked wonderful.

"It's - the band's here," Eugene said, pointing behind him. "It's time to get ready to go on stage."

"Okay," Rapunzel said, and she followed him out of the makeup room, Pascal on her shoulder, and then said, teasingly, "they're an official band, now?"

"What am I supposed to call them? The Peanut Gallery with Instruments? Come on, Rapunzel," Eugene said lightly as they wound their way around the people to below the stage, where a few workers were waiting for them, one holding her guitar.

Eugene took the guitar and handed it to her, and held her hand as she stepped onto the platform.

"Just remember, YES, there's lots of people, but just play because you're happy and don't mind them. Be happy. Make yourself happy, okay, Rapunzel?" Eugene said encouragingly as Pascal leapt onto him and crawled up to his shoulder, showing a thumb's up for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel smiled at their smiles and said, nodding, "Yeah."

"Just like in rehearsal," Eugene said, and he clapped his hands and stood back and Rapunzel felt the platform start to go up, like the elevator she and Eugene had tried out her first day at the stadium. And she took a deep breath.

**I'm not putting this in the Disney or crossover section, FYI. They're almost cameo characters. Thanks for reading! God bless you!  
**


	8. Realization

**Thank you, God, for everything.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Tangled or its songs or quotes. IT'S THE LAST CHAPTER Y'ALL CAN START FREAKING OUT NOW HA HA HA. Sorry. **

Rapunzel instantly saw bright lights all around her, and the enormous stadium was practically packed with people. On all sides, there was people; people sitting, people standing, people walking around, people watching expectantly. There was young people and children and grandparents and men and women and so many but, Rapunzel just took a deep breath, inwardly hoped that her one song would be enough for this crowd, and walked to the microphone that was standing at her level right in front of her.

"Hello, California!" she said warmly, and this received many cheers and there was more flashes. "I'm Rapunzel, and I'm here to open for the wonderful Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea. This is a little song I wrote. Let's go!" and she turned to see Hook starting up on his keyboard, and Eric and Vlad with their instruments, and she turned back to the crowd with a smile. She looked down to her guitar and found her spots on her strings.

Looking back up, she shook her head and said, "This is so much bigger than a bar."

Her fingers started to strum the tune, an energetic rhythm that the keyboard played nicely with. She nodded her head and dipping back to the microphone, started:

_"Seven A.M., the usual morning line up_  
_Start on the chores, and sweep 'til the floor's all clean_  
_Polish and wax, do laundry and mop and shine up_  
_Sweep again and by then_  
_It's like seven-fifteen_

_"And so I'll read a book_  
_Or maybe two or three_  
_I'll add a few new paintings_  
_To my gallery_  
_I'll play guitar and knit_  
_And cook and basically_  
_Wonder when will my life begin."_

She stopped singing here and strummed harder on her guitar for about fifteen seconds, barely hearing the shouting and excitement pounding in her ears, and she turned back to the microphone with new breath:

_"Then after lunch, it's puzzles and darts and baking_  
_Paper maché, a bit of ballet and chess_  
_Pottery and ventriloquy, candle making_  
_Then I'll stretch_  
_Maybe sketch_  
_Take a climb_  
_Sew a dress."_

The instruments grew louder here:

_"And I'll reread the books_  
_If I have time to spare_  
_I'll paint the wall some more_  
_I'm sure there's room somewhere_  
_And then I'll brush, and brush_  
_And brush, and brush my hair_  
_Stuck in the same place I've always been_  
_And I'll keep wonderin'_  
_And wonderin'_  
_And wonderin'_  
_And wonderin'_  
_When will my life begin?_  
_When will, oh, whheeeeennnn will_  
_My life begin?"_

The last word was sung with a high note, and the instruments stopped, and Rapunzel's voice filled the stadium, her body bending to hold the high note, and then she stopped, her voice echoing, and clapping filled the air, so much that Rapunzel could barely hear it, that is, except for the yelling and excited screams of the audience.

Somehow, in some way, she talked to the crowd, saying her goodbyes before turning and walking quickly, practically skipping, backstage, where she could see Eugene and the stage woman watching expectantly for her.

"Very good, Rapunzel, c'mon," the woman said, and Rapunzel smiled at Eugene, who placed a hand around her waist and led her after the woman backstage. Once they were left amongst the throngs of the behind-the-scenes crowd, the woman nodded and spoke to Eugene to take care of her, to which he blindly nodded. He then turned to Rapunzel, who was very nearly glowing with such a wonderful, excited innocence, and her eyes shined back at him with a sort of wonderful, enfolding warmth that somehow quickly prompted him, practically wrapping him like a fly entangled in the wisps of the spider's silk, to him gently placing his lips against hers, his other hand around her neck.

He leaned in slowly, so the teen could back out any time she felt like she didn't want it, but she just slowly closed her eyes and let him envelope her in him, his lips against hers, smooth and warm and sweet, with his on the top of hers, pressuring them just the right amount. Pascal, on Eugene's shoulder, watched them, almost alarmed, but curious, through red-tinted fingers.

Eugene broke it off first; slowly, carefully, and his eyes searched hers afterward. Her eyes were bright green and her freckles were dark against her slightly blushing skin that accompanied well with her bright smile.

"Eugene," she said.

"Rapunzel?" he said earnestly, leaning a bit toward her, and that was when his cellphone rang, and Rapunzel blushed and he stammered quickly as he apologized and turned away from her, talking excitedly to someone on the other end.

Rapunzel didn't mind him taking the quick break, though. She needed to somehow calm herself down, though she wasn't sure how. She was far too full of energy, and she giggled as her hands wrung through her wonderful blonde hair, relieving the moment just before over and over, and how his lips felt melded with hers.

The two were so absorbed with what they were doing that it was a quick surprise when they heard a voice say, "There they are!"

Rapunzel quickly turned around, looking confused, and Eugene instantly frowned when coming from the shadows came the figure of Gothel and four of the stadium security guards, dressed in red shirts with white undershirts that showed beneath the collar with black buttons.

"Mother?" Rapunzel said, surprised, not sure what to say.

Gothel did not look at all like she had just that afternoon. Her hair was just starting to have streaks of grey forming in it, but Rapunzel barely noticed this in favor of her face, which, besides being wrinkly, was so undeniably worried looking about being reunited with her daughter.

She quickly hurried to Rapunzel and nearly started to sob, startling Rapunzel, as she wrapped her arms around her, saying, "Oh, my precious girl!"

"Um, pardon. What's going on?" Eugene asked, raising a confused finger in protest.

Gothel stood back with an arm around Rapunzel's shoulders, which the girl wanted to shove off, and said to the security guards in a strong voice, "Officers, THIS MAN" - she pointed emphatically at Eugene, who looked startled - "is him. HE kidnapped my daughter. Oh, Rapunzel, thank GOODNESS I found you."

"Wait, Mother, you DON'T understand," Rapunzel said, snaking out from under her arm and going to stand against Eugene's arm. "Eugene didn't kidnap me. He HIRED me. I got a job SINGING, Mother. He hasn't harmed me at all!" Rapunzel frowned and said, "But, officers, I don't think she is my mother."

They turned to Gothel, who said, "Oh, Rapunzel, why would you think of such a ridiculous thing!"

"You kept me in a tower for EIGHTEEN YEARS!" Rapunzel said. "You locked me in a tower! You don't even look like me!"

"Rapunzel!" Gothel hissed indignantly.

"She's not my mother!" Rapunzel said quickly to the security guards, who looked confused as to what was happening.

"Mr. Rider?" they all heard, and they all turned around to see a man with a large build, wearing a fine suit and sporting a slightly greying dark beard. Next to him was the woman who had spoken, wearing a jewel necklace that went well with her long, dark hair. She looked almost stern. "What is going on?"

Rapunzel's heart stopped. It was Mr. and Mrs. Corona, and they looked even more clear than they did in the magazine. The woman, especially, reminded Rapunzel of herself even more. Her hair was long and silky; her face looked practically the same. Rapunzel quietly took a step forward as Eugene and Gothel argued and yelled and made points behind her, but she ignored them and took slow steps forward.

She didn't know why, but she felt so incredibly compelled toward this woman she had just met. It was like she had seen her before in her life.

"Mrs. Corona?" she whispered.

"Rapunzel," Mrs. Corona said, sounding almost relieved to hear someone acting normal. "Your performance was wonderful. Like nothing I've ever seen."

"Thank-thank you," Rapunzel said, and she shook her head and dashed to her purse where she pulled out the magazine Eugene had given her and flipping through it, said, "um, ma'am, I was just . . ."

"Yes, Rapunzel?" Mrs. Corona said, a bit more loudly over the sound of Eugene and Gothel.

"I read . . . about your daughter, and how it's her birthday today. It's my birthday today too," Rapunzel said.

"Oh, that's wonderful. How-how old are you turning?" Mrs. Corona asked, quietly. Her voice was slow now, like she could barely make the words out.

Rapunzel noticed that she was looking intently at her, and quickly said, "I'm eighteen now."

"Eighteen," Mrs. Corona breathed.

"Rider, what's happening? What is this all about?" Mr. Corona said, louder than Eugene and Gothel, who instantly stopped with their yelling.

Eugene quickly pointed an accusatory finger at Gothel. "SHE thinks I kidnapped her daughter! But she's not her daughter!"

"You're not?" Mr. Corona said, looking to Rapunzel.

Rapunzel shook her head quickly. "She kept me locked up in a house for nearly eighteen years!"

"William," Mrs. Corona said, grabbing hold of her husband's sleeve.

"Yes, Catherine?" he asked her, turning to her, putting a hand on top of hers. She whispered something to him, making him look quickly to Rapunzel, who held in a breath.

Gothel looked pale, Pascal looked a little confused, and it dawned on Eugene right before Mrs. Corona turned to Rapunzel, and said, stepping toward her, "Rapunzel, who is your real mother?"

"I don't know," Rapunzel said. "I've never known her."

Mrs. Corona was almost to her now. "I-I had a daughter, but she was kidnapped. When she was a little baby. She-she would have looked just like you. She's-she's . . ." and her voice broke, and she reached out and touched Rapunzel's cheek, and the teen leaned into her hand. Mrs. Corona smiled weakly, and so did Rapunzel. The resemblance was simply uncanny, and Mrs. Corona wrapped Rapunzel in her arms. Rapunzel leaned into her, tears in her eyes.

Gothel's eyes were wide, and the security guards said, "What do we do now?"

"Arrest her," Mr. Corona said, pointing to Gothel. "For kidnapping." He smiled and looked to his wife and daughter. "A simple DNA test can attest to everything."

He bent and hugged the two women to him, and Eugene and Pascal smiled at each other, each knowing that this was the best thing that had ever happened to Rapunzel.

Mrs. Corona reached out her hand to Eugene, and he grasped it, sure he would just get a handshake for a job well done. So, he was surprised when she pulled him into the new family hug.

But he didn't mind.

* * *

Rapunzel sat in a large, comfy chair in the back of the Disney Stadium. She was working on a couple of lyrics for the last song on her second album. She was going to be recording it in less than two months. She bit her lip and finished, held it up to Pascal, who was wearing sunglasses and leaning over a tabloid magazine.

"Pascal," she said, catching his attention. He looked up to her and she said, giggling, "You don't believe anything THAT kind of magazine prints, do you?" It was your average magazine marketed to hormone-driven teenage girls.

He shook his head earnestly, but then looked to the bit where it said he was the most popular celebrity pet around. He was seen a lot with Rapunzel ever since she became big and famous a few months ago, when her parents took her back after the doctors pronounced her entirely theirs. The paps loved him!

Rapunzel giggled again and said, "How do you like this?"

Pascal read it and gave her a thumb's up. She took a deep breath and said, "Thanks, Pascal," and put the paper down, right next to the picture she had of her and her parents. They had taken warmly to her and after a month or so of being family, she became very popular because of her song, and, pleasing her greatly, her father offered her a musical career. And so the Pub Thugs were her band, Pascal her best friend, and her manager-

"Blondie! Rapunzel!" Eugene said, coming through the door to the room. "Hey," he said, more quietly.

"Time to go on?" she asked, reaching for her guitar and standing up, smiling brightly.

"The crowd's waiting," he said. "Your parents have their VIP seats. They're waiting, too."

"Did the Princesses and Sebastian and the Sea come? I DID invite them," Rapunzel said.

"They've got front row seats."

Rapunzel grinned. "That's great!" Pascal ran across the floor and up Eugene to his shoulder, where he looked expectantly between the two of them.

"Shall I take you to the stage?" Eugene said, smiling.

"I'd love you to," Rapunzel said, and she gave him a very sweet kiss before they headed out to the stage, the sound of the people and music already audible. The two things Rapunzel would have missed out on if she had never gone out to the Snuggly Duckling that day.

_The end._

**Thanks for reading!  
**


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